


Happy To Comply

by pinetreelady



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Humiliation, M/M, Nipple Play, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 07:31:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19741054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinetreelady/pseuds/pinetreelady
Summary: Geno’s a giant baby. In bed, he’ll beg for Sid to be rough with his nipples, to pinch and bite, but then they’ll be sore for days afterwards, and he’ll whine incessantly. It’s a challenge for Sid, truly, because Geno’s delightful writhing and begging are hard to resist, but the consequences are dire.





	Happy To Comply

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to E and B for the encouragement and beta reading, and to S for egging me on.

Geno's making the most appealing noises and Sid pulls away to give himself a breather from Geno's lush mouth, and kisses along his jawline, faint stubble prickling his lips. He sucks a gentle kiss just beneath Geno's ear, and enjoys the sharp breath Geno draws. So he sucks a little harder, and then uses his teeth.

"Sid," Geno says breathily. 

"Shhhh," Sid tells him, and kisses down his neck to suck at his collarbones. Geno brings one of his own hands down to his mouth to wet his fingers, and then reaches toward his own nipple. 

Sid smacks his hand with a sharp crack, and Geno flinches. "What," he says, sounding bewildered.

"Mine," Sid says. 

"I'm want—" 

"I know what you want. But you have to wait." Sid hides a smile in Geno's neck, so he doesn't have to look at Geno's ridiculous pout. 

He kisses his way down to Geno's sternum, and brings up a hand, lightly running his palm across Geno's nipple, already hard. He makes a breathy noise. "Ah, Sid."

"That's right," Sid tells him, and continues just running his palm over Geno's pec, just barely skimming his nipple, a light and teasing touch. He sits up enough so he can get both hands on Geno. There’s a flush down his neck and beginning to stain his chest, which is one of Sid's favorite sights. 

Geno arches his back up as much as he can with Sid straddling him. Sid moves his hands off of Geno just to make him whine and arch further, desperate for Sid’s touch. His nipples are so hard, and Sid's mouth waters. His pecs are always one of Sid's favorite things about him, and after a summer of training when he's bulked up is when Sid likes them most. He's puffy and gently-rounded with muscle and Sid can't get enough. "Your tits are so hot, Geno," he says.

Geno flushes redder. He squirms. "Not—not a girl, Sid," he protests. 

Sid grinds his ass against Geno's dick. "No kidding."

Geno bites his lip, and can't quite meet Sid's eyes. "Not—not _tits_ ," he says, like the words take effort.

Sid puts his hands over Geno's pecs and squeezes, gently, a perfect handful. "Tits," he repeats, watching Geno closely. 

Geno's mouth falls open, and he arches again. "More, Sid."

"Call them what they are," Sid says, inexorable. "More, what?"

Geno pants. "I'm—"

Sid takes his hands away again, and Geno makes a hurt noise. God, Sid could do this all day. And maybe he will.

He runs his hands along Geno's belly and up his sides, and over to his collarbone again. "I won't touch you where you want unless you use the right words." Sid can feel Geno's dick twitch underneath him, and his own twitches in sympathy.

Geno makes another desperate noise, and Sid gazes at Geno's nipples again, looking his fill. Dark and small, pointy and perfect. A little tuft of hair in between. He can't wait to get his mouth on them. But he can be patient. 

Once, Sid asked him if he does it to himself, when he’s getting himself off, but he said it’s never the same. “I’m try, Sid, but it’s not feel right when it’s just me.” Which Sid takes to mean that part of what gets him off is the humiliation, and Sid’s more than happy to comply. 

"You're making me wait, G," he says softly. 

Geno's face flames, but he looks Sid right in the face. "Touch them, please, Sid."

Sid tilts his chin up, waiting. 

Geno's gaze skitters away, and he closes his eyes, tucks his chin just a little. "My tits," he says, barely audible.

"What's that?"

"Please touch my—my tits, Sid," Geno says, a little louder. 

"Look at me, G?" Sid says softly, and Geno opens his eyes. “Good job,” Sid praises, and goes back to lightly drawing his palms over Geno’s nipples again. Geno’s breath hitches.

“More, Sid,” he pleads. 

Sid cocks his head to the side, contemplative. He pinches lightly at one, and then the other. Then pinches again, and steadily increases the pressure. Geno lets out a high, pained noise. 

“Too much?” Sid asks.

Geno shakes his head. “Harder,” he says. 

The thing is, Geno’s a giant baby. In bed, he’ll beg for Sid to be rough with his nipples, to pinch and bite, but then they’ll be sore for days afterwards, and he’ll whine incessantly. It’s a challenge for Sid, truly, because Geno’s delightful writhing and begging are hard to resist, but the consequences are dire. 

“You’ll complain tomorrow,” Sid tells him, even as he pinches harder. He keeps the pressure and then pulls and Geno sucks in a breath, hard. Sid backs off. 

“Ah, Sid, god,” Geno pants out. 

Geno’s perfectly capable of coming like this, with only a little bit of pressure from Sid sitting on his dick, while playing with his nipples.

“You want my mouth, G?” Sid asks, conversational, as if his mouth isn’t practically watering at the idea of biting into thick muscle, of rubbing the flat of his tongue where his palms just were, of soaking his chest hair with spit, of indenting teeth marks into those little nubs, leaving bruises in his wake. 

“Yes,” Geno says. “Please.” 

Sid regretfully shifts back off of Geno’s dick and onto his thighs so that he can reach Geno’s chest when he lowers his mouth. He pauses for a moment, because this way, at least, he gets to see Geno’s hard, red cock, too. 

He leans in and fixes his teeth and pulls, gently and then harder, and Geno practically sobs. “Sid, I’m—” he breaks off into frantic-sounding Russian, and Sid reluctantly releases him. Better to let him recede from the edge for a few moments, and Sid runs soothing hands along his sides, and leans in to kiss his mouth sweetly. 

Sid pulls back enough to get a good look at his face, and smooths his hair away from his forehead. “Doing okay, G? We can stop if it’s too much.” 

Geno shakes his head. “It’s good, Sid,” he says, voice rough. It goes straight to Sid’s dick. 

Sid puts his fingers to Geno’s mouth, taps gently on Geno’s lower lip. “Get me wet?” 

Geno sucks Sid’s index finger and his thumb in, sloppy and wet, and Sid pulls his hand away, and pinches at Geno’s nipple with slippery, spit-slick fingers. Geno’s gasping again almost immediately, and Sid pulls away to give him a breather and to make him get Sid’s fingers wet again. He goes back and forth, alternating between Geno’s nipples and making Geno suck on his fingers. He has to press the heel of his hand at the base of his own dick, just to relieve the pressure. Geno’s so _sweet_ like this, it’s incredible.

When there are tear tracks from the corners of Geno’s eyes into his hair, it’s time to stop teasing. 

He kisses Geno’s mouth again as best he can, but Geno’s slack and panting and mostly out of it. So he bows his head to mouth at Geno’s nipples again, pinching one hard between his finger and thumb while biting at the other. Geno’s making incoherent noises, and Sid alternates between flicking his tongue over the nipple and biting at it, and Geno’s noises go high-pitched and desperate. Sid turns his pinch on one nipple into a vicious twist, and sinks his teeth in hard to the other. Geno makes a noise like he’s been punched, and his body goes rigid.

Sid picks his head up enough to note Geno’s softening cock with satisfaction, and then leans back down to kiss Geno’s chest while he comes down from his orgasm. When Geno lets out a shuddering breath and pats at Sid’s thighs, still clamped around Geno’s hips, Sid climbs off him and goes to get two washcloths: a warm one to clean him up, and a cool one to press on Geno’s nipples to soothe away the sting. 

Sid’s own orgasm is almost an afterthought, after that; he gets himself off with a few quick strokes, almost delirious from Geno’s responsive sweetness. 

He cleans himself up with a couple of tissues from the box next to the bed, and curls into Geno’s side. 

“So good, Sid,” Geno says. 

“ _You’re_ so good,” Sid corrects, and kisses Geno’s shoulder. “You were perfect for me.”

Geno smiles, still a little dopey, and Sid can’t help but smile back.

*

The next morning Sid wakes early and eases the sheet down to get a peek at Geno’s chest. Red marks and faint bruising litter Geno’s tits, and his nipples are swollen, rosy and puffy. They’ll stay that way for days. Geno will whine, and Sid will feel smug. He’ll be too sore to even wear a shirt today, and maybe tomorrow too, and Sid can’t find it in himself to be sorry.


End file.
